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What’s eating you up? What’s that tremor in your hand? Why are you shivering? Why do you want to cry? What are you feeling and what do you need?

No, it’s. No, it’s not cold. No, I don’t want to. I don’t know what I’m feeling  No, try again. I feel… suffocated.  Why? I don’t know, I don’t know, i don’t know! I need to breathe. 

I need to breathe….

The desolation and ache, needing to release the poison, the fervor rage and sentiment. I want everything to be okay again. That blissful ignorance. I miss the smile I used to have, before everything happened. No, no you don’t… you’ve grown so much since then, don’t feel like you need to go back. oh but it was so blissful then…. I didn’t know anything. I didn’t know what heartache was, I didn’t know what disappointment was. If I was tired it was because school was hot and I was playing soccer before going for choir and coming home late because I wouldn’t stop talking to my friends. If I was sad it was because my favourite food stall didn’t open and I couldn’t get my favourite noodles…

When all else fails, where do you go? When you wake up from a nightmare, kicking and screaming, how do you shake it off? How do you go to sleep knowing that you’ll probably wake up sweating and palpitating?

It’s that heaviness in your chest,

The scream just waiting to be heard.

It’s the exhaustion that you have,

The anguish so deep inside that you can’t express.

What is that? Why do memories haunt her everywhere she goes? Why can’t she have a day without her memories? Why can’t she just forget it?

She’s waiting for superman to lift her up, and take her anywhere. Show her love and flying through the air. Save her now, before it’s too late tonight.


Stumbled and Fell

He took something from me. He took little pieces of me, little pieces over time, so small I didn’t even notice, you know? He wanted me to be something I wasn’t, and I made myself into what he wanted. One day I was me Cristina Yang, and then suddenly I was lying for him, and jeopardizing my career, and agreeing to be married and wearing a ring, and being a bride. Until I was standing there in a wedding dress with no eyebrows, and I wasn’t Cristina Yang anymore. And even then, I would’ve married him. I would have. I lost myself for a long time. And now that I’m finally me again, I can’t. I love you. I love you more than I loved Burke. I love you. And that scares the crap out of me because when you asked me to ignore Teddy’s page, you took a piece of me, and I let you. And that will never happen again. – Cristina Yang, GA.

I cannot breathe, I just cannot. I curl up in the corner of the bench, huddled over my laptop, desperately trying to put my thought into words. I find myself dependent on my medication and that’s not good. I panic when it diminishes in quantity from my backpack. I sit there, staring at the corner of my mind. The corner where you dragged your sledge hammer and destroyed, do you remember that? You cross my mind so often now that I think you still exist in the people I love the most. That scares the shit out of me. You have no idea. Remember how you left me not only broken but shattered and ground into fine powder?

I’m afraid. I’m afraid to try new things now. I’m afraid to be open to new experiences and new people because you made me so afraid. I wonder again and again, how is it you managed to turn a confident, bright girl into a cowering, academically challenged girl? How is it that you managed to snatch away the light behind her eyes, her fiery passion in her heart and her spark of hope in her heart? How is it that you managed to slam her across the wall, to hurt her, and to accuse her of hurting you, and on top of that, managed to make her believe that it was her fault? How is it that you managed to make her believe she was inferior to you? How was it that you managed to make her apologise to you even though it was clearly your fault? How was it that you managed to make a girl with a backbone suddenly fall on the floor, cleaning up your mess and promising to make changes when the one who needed to change was you?

How did you do that? How could you take her naivety and mutilate it into your own little disgusting creature? How did you make her flinch from the touch of others? How did you manage to make her second guess her every move?

But no, there’s a more pressing question that burns my mind right now.

How the fuck did she allow him to do all that to her? How stupid could she get? How idiotic could she be to continue to keep herself be under his spell? 

How did she allow herself to sink that low just to make you happy? How did she hit rock bottom just to be someone you wanted? How could she let herself?! How could she lose herself just like that?! How could she lose all her self confidence only by the few words that you told her?! That she was never and can never be good enough for you! That she could never be better than she was simply because she “never tried!” That her tears were nothing but a futile means to get your “pity”?! Your pity? You think she cried because she wanted your pity? 

You may be a memory for 5 years ago, but it stays fresh in my head, 

It was as if everything just happened yesterday.

Nothing you say now can change what your past actions have brought up.

Fighting Mia

With Mia whispering in my ear every single time I see food, I had forgotten what hunger was. The lines between hunger and craving was blurred and almost non-existent. My RD once told me, “the first sign of hunger isn’t the hunger pangs – those are last. The first sign is when you start thinking about food.”


But when I start thinking about food, that means I’m already craving for something already too right? What is hunger, what is craving? What is hunger, what is craving? What is hunger, what is craving? What is hunger, what is craving? What is hunger, what is craving? What is hunger, what is craving? What is hunger, what is craving? What is hunger, what is craving? What is hunger, what is craving? What is hunger, what is craving? What is hunger, what is craving?

When you feel like you’re almost going to be full, stop eating. Just stop. Take time, or just sit around. Sit and be with yourself and your stomach. You’ll feel full soon enough.

Throw it up, just do it. You’re so fat already, stop making yourself uglier.

No, I won’t. Because I love myself. I won’t let myself go through that kind of torture again. I may not fully understand it now, but I know I’ll thank myself in the future. Thank myself for not letting it become so severe that I can’t do anything. Thank myself for not letting my teeth rot. Thank myself for not developing throat cancer. Thank myself for having some kind thought for my own body.

It’s all but a lie. They’re telling you lies. Throw it up, you disgusting piece of shit.

But Mia, if I do, you win again. And you’ve won so many times. Maybe it’s my turn to win. Maybe it’s time for you to leave. Because there’s nothing more precious than the smiles of Imagemy loved ones, and they hurt to see me do it. I hurt myself when I do it. Because I’ve learned from you, Mia. I’ve learned how to at least be conscious of when I binge.

Thank you Mia, you’ve shown me how much I need to start loving myself. You showed me how twisted and broken the world is. You showed me that there are others out there who love me. You showed me that I need improvement, and I WILL change. I’ll change for the better, I’ll change for the amazing people in my life. I’ll learn how to be kind to myself, and even though it’s hard to show compassion to myself, I will try. I will try. I will try.

Panic Attack

ImageIt could’ve been anything, anything at all. Any small thing could’ve triggered it. It could be the man who accidentally bumped into you in the supermarket. It could be the rape or suicide scene in a movie you were watching. It could be the sunset that was so beautiful it literally took your breath away. It could be a thought. A small thought. A small harmless thought.

Then suddenly panic surges through your veins while cortison and adrenalin pumps through your blood and body, making you hyperventilate. You gasp for air, but it’s never enough;; it’s never enough. Your head swims in fear as you think “oh no, not again, not now, not here, not in public.” People stare. They know something’s wrong with this girl. You can feel their eyes boring into the back of your neck as you maneuver your way to a secret spot or a safe hiding place to calm yourself down. 

Once you reach that safety spot, your body makes a cruel joke on you. Just kidding, here, have another bout of it. Fresh panic kicks in and the world spins around in circles. Your heart palpitates like never before. It hammers in your ears, in your head. How do I explain the panic…? Imagine almost slipping in your bathroom. That split second panic when you right yourself up again? Imagine that but 10 minutes long. The seconds felt like hours. and the minutes felt like days. The panic continues to surge. You continue to hyperventilate. 

Not enough air, not enough air.

I’m going to die. I’m going to die. That’s the only thing going through your head. Tears fall freely from your eyes. You want to scream out for help but your mouth is inhaling as much air as possible and don’t be silly, you hid for a reason – you didn’t want anyone to know you’re panicking for no reason at all. 

By the time you calm down and slow yourself down, you’re in nothing but a mess of tears and snot. Regret and shame takes the place that the adrenalin and panic once dominated. You sit in the corner, in your spot, in the darkness of your secret and you rock yourself to calmness. You hug your knees and whisper “everything’s going to be okay”. It’s a mantra that goes through your head. It’s the fantasy that someone will find you in that condition and not look away in disgust and will hold you tight, saying “everything is going to be okay.”

What it if isn’t going to be okay? If others could survive through it, why can’t I? As quickly as the panic turns into depression and shame, it turned and manipulated itself once more. This time, it turned into anger. Why can’t I learn to control it? Why can’t I be normal?! Why is this not getting any better?! And soon you find yourself yearning, longing, aching for the relief of a knife. Of a blade. Anything that can relieve you of the pain you felt inside. Anything that can spill some warm, sticky, bright red blood. 

Anything to numb you out. 

It Ends Tonight

Your subtleties, they strangle me. I can’t explain myself at all. All the wants, and all the needs – all I don’t want to need at all. A falling star, at least I fall alone. I can’t explain what you can’t explain. You’re finding things that you didn’t know – I look at you with such disdain. 


When the darkness turns to light, it ends tonight. All these thoughts locked inside, now you’re the first to know…


My mind’s unweaving
Maybe it’s best you leave me alone.
A weight is lifted
On this evening
I give the final blow.



I Want To Tell You…

The feeling of being loved, of being wanted, knowing that someone out there loves you and craves for your companionship – it’s irreplaceable. The little things that he does for you, when he texts you to make sure your day is going all right. When he tries your baked goods and looks at you with loving eyes and eagerly tells you “it’s amazing!” even though you know it sucks. When you catch him smiling at you when the car stops at the red light. When he memorises your McDonald orders or when he knows your favourite type of tea.

And even though I know deep down that I’m his everything, sometimes I can’t help but think that I’m a little bit invisible to him. Especially when he’s losing himself with his laughter with his friends and accidentally calls me his ex’s name. Or when he goes out of his way to help her. Am I wrong to be saddened a little, knowing how much he still cares for her? I trust him, I really really do. One minute he puts her on the pedestal and the next he’s telling me things she’s done that’s hurt him. And all I want to do is to hold him tight and promise that I’m nothing like her.

Am I being like her? Jealous? Why does it even bother me this much?? I already know that he’s devoted to me. I feel like I always ask too much of him. I feel like every time I’m with him, I drain him – mentally, physically, emotionally.

I want to tell you how much you mean to me. How much you’ve helped me grow. I want to scream to the whole world and tell them that you’re mine. I want to hold your hand and not be afraid if your ex’s friends are around us. I want to show you to my friends. I want to be able to be with you without the fear of your ex finding out about us. I want you to be confident in our relationship – confident enough to tell her. But maybe I’m asking too much, as per usual… 

I want to tell you that yes, I’ll get edgy whenever you mention that you’ll be helping her. I want to tell you that yup, it’s hard to know you’ll be spending a whole day with her alone – even though you hate it too. I want to tell you that it’s hard to hear every time we go out to dinner with your friends and you say “oh, don’t tag jackie in any of the pictures, she’s still invisible … ehm yeah.” I want you to know that I care so much for you, it scares me because it’s opening up myself and being vulnerable. I want to tell you that I’m excited in the adventures in front of us.

Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the ability to overcome it.


Self-Care Week

It’s spring break! And even though the past week or so has been rollercoaster crazy and hell, I got out of it and I managed to keep my head above water. so what better way to celebrate than to have a self care week dedicated to baking? I haven’t touched baking since I came here, it’s been close to 6 months of no baking. My hands are just itching. And since W still has to work, what better way to have some me downtime and take care of myself? He gets to eat my stuff later anyway 😛



Apparently my electric hand whisk was left over at W’s place 😦 so whisking away with my manual whisk! Never skip arm day!!



Knead. Knead. Knead


Cookie dough, left to chill for an hour in the fridge 🙂


Ta-da! Instead of making cinnamon roll bread, i made cinnamon roll cookies. Glazed with milk frosting.

Never underestimate the amount of strength you achieve back from taking at least just one day to self-care. Don’t mix self-care with laziness, they’re two different, completely different things. When you self-care, you’re more conscious about your thoughts, your presence, your very being. You’re relaxed but productive. You’re taking care of yourself, what’s so bad about that? Take a day off dedicated to pamper yourself, it’s worth it.